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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26612164">cake is forever</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZephyrOfAllTrades/pseuds/ZephyrOfAllTrades'>ZephyrOfAllTrades</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Prompts [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anathema Device Ships Aziraphale/Crowley, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Demon Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff, Getting Together, Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Mostly Dialogue, Protective Anathema, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:09:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,406</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26612164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZephyrOfAllTrades/pseuds/ZephyrOfAllTrades</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt by: write-it-motherfuckers</p>
<p>Person A: “Would you be mad if I told you that I sold my soul for a chocolate cake?”</p>
<p>Person B: “…..How good was the cake?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Anathema Device, Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Prompts [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844170</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>cake is forever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt link is <a href="https://write-it-motherfuckers.tumblr.com/post/188665075431/person-a-would-you-be-mad-if-i-told-you-that-i">here</a>.</p>
<p>I planned to keep it within 1k words but it ran away from me. Anywho, this is mostly Anathema (and the reader) feeling like a third wheel.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale tapped his pen on the worn out desk at the till, waiting for his friend. He wondered at how she would react to the happenings of the previous evening.</p>
<p>“I dare say she’d be equal parts mortified and astounded,” he murmured aloud, then sighed. He made his way to the shop’s backroom, fingers trailing a line on the dusty shelving. He skirted the scorch marks by the coffee table and went straight to his liquor cabinet. Surely, Anathema wouldn’t mind him starting without her.</p>
<p>There came a knock at the door just as he finished pouring his glass of wine. He ran to open it, already smiling to greet his friend. The smile slipped away when instead of the brunette he was waiting for, there stood a red-headed stranger on his doorstep.</p>
<p>“I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered then cleared his throat to assume his shop-owner voice. “I’m afraid the shop is closed for the evening. Please come back tomorrow should you be in need of a book.”</p>
<p>“No. No book. Not much of a book person, me,” the stranger replied, a corner of his mouth ticking upwards. Aziraphale frowned, the voice sounded familiar but he was sure the man was not. He let himself look over at the being on his doorstep. He had sharp features - nose, cheekbones, grin - and dressed all in black. The clothing was skin tight and cut in the latest fashion, accentuating his angles. He was tall, gangly but lithe at the same time. His hair flowed past his shoulders, half of the tresses messily tied into a bun. Aziraphale gulped, fighting the sudden rush of heat in his cheeks. Yes, he did look rather like the non-reading sort.</p>
<p>He opened his mouth to ask what brought him to the bookshop when someone called from down the street. He looked over to find Anathema barreling towards them on her bicycle, heedless of the pedestrians and on-lookers. The front wheel connected with the street gutter and the girl was forcefully unseated. He shot off to catch her, bracing his legs and his arms for the sudden impact. She landed in a flurry of skirt, hair and assorted occultist bangles into his waiting arms.</p>
<p>“Anathema!” the shop-owner scolded as he let the young woman cling to him. “That was utterly reckless of you. You could have gotten hurt! You could have hit your head! You could have died!” he cried.</p>
<p>“M’sorry,” he heard her say, muffled by the shirt collar currently housing her face. She sagged further into him as the adrenaline eased out of her system.</p>
<p>“Oh, my dear... are you alright?” he asked, not bothering to set her down. He carried her through the doors sparing a moment to talk to the gawking red-head planted beside it. “Would you be so kind, my dear, to bring the velocipede inside. I know she loves the poor thing, even if it does appear unusable now.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he hurried to settle the still trembling woman into the backroom sofa, although he heard a series of unintelligible sounds and a muttered, ‘Velocipede? No one says velocipede anymore’ before he rounded the corner. He was certain it had been accompanied by a dramatic eye roll.</p>
<p>He eased Anathema into the cushions, threw a blanket over her and handed over his glass of wine. Revived by the alcohol, the woman straightened herself in her seat and was in the middle of her thank yous when the red-headed stranger entered the back room.</p>
<p>“Oh, goodness! How rude of me! Thank you for your help, would you like to sit and have a glass as well?” he addressed them, already heading to where he left the bottle of wine.</p>
<p>“No!” Anathema yelled, scrambling to plant herself in between the shop-owner and the stranger. “Aziraphale that is a demon, we need to throw it out!”</p>
<p>“Really, Anathema. <em>That</em> is a <em>person</em><em>.</em> One who helped us, I might add,” he chided. “Please forgive her…” he tilted his head towards the stranger, silently asking.</p>
<p>“Crowley,” the red-head drawled then smirked as Aziraphale’s eyes widened in recognition.</p>
<p>“He’s a demon! I can sense his power and saw his aura! That’s why I sped up. We can’t trust him!” Anathema screeched, brandishing a golden cross from one her may pockets and pointing it towards Crowley. He snickered at the display and stepped closer. Anathema backed away, her other arm flung to her side, fencing Aziraphale from the advancing threat.</p>
<p>“My dear girl, you should know…” the blonde started.</p>
<p>“Hold this will you?” she thrust the cross into the shop-owner’s hand, took out a handful of salt and flung it across the room towards the red-head. She blanched when all he did was flinch, grumble and brush off the crystals from his jacket. He veered away from them and flopped unto the unoccupied sofa, sprawling as if he owned it and giving them no more than a disinterested air. Anathema wasn’t sure if the salt had indeed incapacitated him in some way or he was simply preserving his clothing from any more abuse.</p>
<p>“Anathema, please…” Aziraphale tried again, but the woman corralled him further into the corner.</p>
<p>“He’s no ordinary demon…” the brunette’s voice held a quiver of fear. “We’re going to need holy water.” She patted her coat and the demon tensed. He frowned as she brought out a vial as big as a thumb and started to uncork it.</p>
<p>“You know,” Crowley said, breaking his silence. There was a note of warning in his voice. “I can do far worse to you if you even think of going through with that.” He pointed at her hand then made as if to snap his fingers. “Are you feeling lucky, bike girl?”</p>
<p>Anathema hissed in his direction, “Then why are you here then? What do you want with Aziraphale?”</p>
<p>“If you’d let him talk, he’d have answered that ages ago.”</p>
<p>Anathema stared in confusion and Aziraphale took the opportunity to slip under her arms and pluck the vial from her fingers. “There really is nothing to worry about, my dear.”</p>
<p>Her eyes flicked from the demon sighing in relief to her friend’s earnest, pleading eyes. “Right,” she said through gritted teeth and marched to the desk chair, eyes never leaving the read-head. “You want to talk? Then start talking.”</p>
<p>“Oh dear,” Aziraphale sighed. He went to extract a bottle of scotch and two tumblers. He deduced he was going to need it. “First order of business, I believe, is to make you understand that this man is of no danger to us.” He sat himself on the sofa next to the bewildered demon to prove his point.</p>
<p>“But I saw him getting ready to strike!” anathema insisted.</p>
<p>“After you screamed at him, pelted him with salt and frighten him with your homemade perfume,” Aziraphale retaliated.</p>
<p>“You mean that’s not really holy water?” Crowley choked out. The blonde smiled, uncorking the vial carefully, and handed it over to the demon who took it cautiously in between his fingers. The movement caused the scent of something mildly floral and minty drift in the air.</p>
<p>The red-head glared at the girl who scowled back at him. “You didn’t know and I needed something to scare you off.”</p>
<p>“Yes, well, I’m glad he wasn’t scared off,” Aziraphale gave the demon an apologetic smile.</p>
<p>“Alright, alright. I am clearly missing something here,” she scrubbed at her face. She looked back at the two of them and Aziraphale could just about imagine the picture they made. He - soft, attired in tans and creams and head of white blonde hair and a bow tie - and the demon - all corners, edges, leather jacket, sunglasses and face tattoo.</p>
<p>The blonde filled their glasses, offering one to the amused red-head, and taking a gulp to loosen his tongue. “Do you remember when I called you yesterday?”</p>
<p>“You were gushing about your newly acquired crate of grimoires,” she nodded. Her mind flitted to connect the information together. Aziraphale couldn’t hide his grin as comprehension dawned her face. Anathema’s thought processes were quick without the addling effects of fear. “You summoned a demon? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”</p>
<p>“Well, I was going to tell you tonight, but Crowley showed up before you did and your meeting was rather far from ideal so I was greatly hard-pressed on how to calm you down. So you can’t blame me for - “</p>
<p>“So,” Anathema interrupted. “You’ve called on an agent of hell, offered him some of your best alcohol, and now acting chummy with him. Care to give me further details?”</p>
<p>“Oh, er…” Aziraphale sputtered. Admitting to contracting with a demon would have been simple. It was the specifics of the contract that he knew would worry her. He emptied his tumbler before meeting to answer the brunette’s raised eyebrow. “Would you be mad if I told you that I sold my soul for a chocolate cake?”</p>
<p>Anathema stared at him, then sighed in resigned annoyance, “…How good was the cake?” She finally asked.</p>
<p>“Hold on a minute!” Crowley sputtered from his side of the sofa, before Aziraphale could answer. It was clearly not what he was expecting her to say and he gaped at them both before choking out, “You’re not mad? I mean you went full ‘shield you with my life’ a while back and you learn this and won’t even call him out on how ridiculous he acted?”</p>
<p>“Not the first time he made stupid decisions when it came to food,” she snorted.</p>
<p>“Anathema, really,” the blonde huffed. “It was just that one time.”</p>
<p>“Still far too much trouble for authentic French crepes.”</p>
<p>“Well now I’m intrigued!” Crowley turned to face the shop-owner, getting a huff in his direction as well.</p>
<p>“If you stick around, I just might tell you one of these days, but for now, let’s get back to the cake.” Anathema had gotten over her hesitation and moved to the armchair closer to them and took her wine from where she left it, finally at ease.</p>
<p>“Yes, go on. Tell her about the cake…” Crowley tittered.</p>
<p>Aziraphale blushed even more. “I- I didn’t get to eat it.”</p>
<p>“You’re giving away your soul to a demon for something you didn’t even get to taste?” she said, disbelief in every syllable she uttered.</p>
<p>“Oh, just-. I am not that foolish, dear girl. The cake was a present! You should know that it was Warlock’s birthday yesterday and I missed him so since they moved to America and I daresay it was that that prompted me to draw the summoning circle. He called me you know, disobeying his father and all. And he said he missed spending his birthdays with me and the cakes I made him and our little outings and well, I suppose I have gotten a bit sentimental, soft that I am, so I though it best to distract myself. And the first thing that came to mind when Crowley asked what I wanted was to be able to give my godson a chocolate cake so he won’t have to miss me the way I missed him dearly and perhaps if that cake could miraculously get to him, no matter where he was, wouldn’t that be enough?” He took a breath then slumped forwards to hide his face in his hands. “Goodness, yes. I admit, it does sound unbelievably stupid of me now.”</p>
<p>“I think it’s funny,” Crowley chuckled topping off his and the blonde’s glasses. “Asking for cake then giving it away.”</p>
<p>“Funny for you. He’s permanently bound to Hell now.”</p>
<p>“Nah, not Hell. Just me,” the demon sipped at his drink, humming as it burned his throat. “Part of the contract, really. Soul’s mine to do what I want, same as any other demonic deals.” He groaned at her scrunched face. “Look I know what you type read and yeah, we collect what we could for Hell, but that doesn’t mean we send them all down there. Well, maybe I’m the only one who does this. I mean, yeah, okay. I may or may not have made loopholes for myself and the souls many times. But Hell just want to see the paperwork done. Rarely reads the fine print, nowadays. Traffic down there’s a mess. You don’t know how many humans give themselves over to the dark side <em>without </em>demonic intervention nowadays. You’ve more imagination than my lot,” he vented.</p>
<p>“So, Aziraphale’s your slave now?” she gasped.</p>
<p>“What? No! He could just ask me to stop sending his godson cakes every year for his birthday and it’ll break the contract. No harm done. Back to normal. We’ve talked about it last night.”</p>
<p>“He’s really rather nice for a demon, you know,” the blonde beamed.</p>
<p>“Not nicccccceee,” Crowley hissed but both Anathema and Aziraphale could tell it held no true heat.</p>
<p>“Why’d you come here anyway? You know, if you’re not collecting his soul for anything?”</p>
<p>The demon blushed. “Just thought I’d, uh… stop by and introduce myself.” <em>And ask him out for coffee or a walk through the park</em>, Crowley’s brain supplied. He grimaced at his own sappiness. Talking to the man had refreshed him the night before and he was rather hoping for more of their conversations.</p>
<p>“Oh yes, I did wish to complement your, erm… ‘human corporation’ as you call it,” Aziraphale turned to him. “It took me a while to recognize your voice.” He then turned to Anathema to explain. “He came as this mass of coiling black smoke in the summoning circle last night. Quite considerate of him as the book did mention that he could manifest in monstrous forms. I was expecting a bloodied corpse of grotesque animal configurations.”</p>
<p>“Aziraphale, I love you but please stop this recklessness,” she sighed. “I’m sorry I can’t visit as often as I’d like but you really do need to find yourself someone to talk to.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale stuck his tongue out at her. It made Crowley snort and he was tempted to answer with his own laugh but decided for a pout instead. “Honestly, dear girl, if I’d have to choose, I’d take the demon over the men you and Madame Tracey kept setting me up with.”</p>
<p>“Really? M-Me?” Crowley coughed out. He was only used to being needed, not wanted. After the deal’s done, no one cared to call him back for a chat, not even a thank you for a job well done.</p>
<p>“My dear, I wouldn’t have stayed up ‘til the light of dawn to talk to you if I didn’t enjoy doing so,” the blonde declared.</p>
<p>It was a truthful statement which made it all the worse for Crowley. “You’ll discorporate me if you keep that up?” he mumbled, hand on his heart and face as red as his hair. </p>
<p>“Flirting aside,” Anathema voiced, smirking as both shop-owner and demon floundered at her words. “I think it’d best if I take the book out of your hands.”</p>
<p>“That won’t be necessary, my dear. The book was written to summon one specific demon and I do promise to stop the practice despite my obvious skill.” Aziraphale reported primly.</p>
<p>“I think I’d still like to read it, if you don’t mind,” Anathema insisted. “Imagine the secrets scribbled down in it. I mean, obtaining an occult being’s true name would make them do your bidding without question. I’m certain it’s there. I mean how else could you have summoned him?”</p>
<p>“Don’t make me regret sparing your life, witch,” the demon growled in response. “Very hypocritical of you to think you can make a slave out of me when the thought of me making a slave of Aziraphale was sooooo disgusting to you.”</p>
<p>“Yes, well. Either way, I, er, can’t give you the book,” the blonde stammered.</p>
<p>“Can’t or won’t?” Anathema wondered aloud.</p>
<p>“Can’t,” he said, flustered.</p>
<p>“You’re not obligated to protect me from witches,” Crowley offered. “Demon, remember? Not really worth it.”</p>
<p>“Oh, pooh,” Aziraphale flapped his hands, dispelling the notion. “You’re right, you are a demon but it is still no excuse to just yank you away from your affairs with no warning,” he stopped his fidgeting and threw a rebellious glare at Anathema. “So I’ve burned the thing until it was just ash in the grate.”</p>
<p>“You what?” Anathema sat forward. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. A.Z. Fell burning a book. <em>The</em> A.Z. Fell. What would your fellow collectors think of you now?”</p>
<p>“Y-You’ve burned it?” Crowley squeaked out. They both looked at him.</p>
<p>“Oh dear, was I not supposed to?” Aziraphale’s fingers began twisting themselves once more. “It’s just that you’ve told me all the times you’ve been called and all the things they made you do. I just thought it would be safer for you this way and of course you said you can’t touch or keep the book yourself. So - so… Well, if-if I was in the wrong, I’m sure I can track down copies -”</p>
<p>“No,” Crowley croaked out. “That was the only copy. I made sure no one made more. And it was just the one that I can’t hold or keep. Fellow demon did the curse for a lark. Wanted to know how long I’ll hold out until someone finally threw a flask full of holy water on me.”</p>
<p>“Then what I did was fine, then?” the blonde asked hopefully.</p>
<p>“What you did was more than fine,” Crowley beamed at him, feeling the a newfound sense of freedom. “I won’t have to worry about entrapments, anymore. I suppose I’m indebted to <em>you </em>now.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think that’s truly necessary, my dear. You’ve helped me and I did the same to you. We cancel out each other’s debt,” he gave him a small smile, a little disappointed to know that the demon might not come back seeing as he was of no more use to him.</p>
<p>“Er…” Crowley fidgeted in his seat. “Yeah, about that… It’s not in the contract you signed last night. But like I said, I have loopholes for this sort of thing, if you - “</p>
<p>“No need for that,” Azirapahle assured him. “Perhaps we can work out some sort of arrangement instead?”</p>
<p>“An arrangement. Y-yeah. I can do that.”</p>
<p>Anathema watched, groaning at the scene in front of her. They were staring at each other both seemingly wanting to but incapable of reaching across the the small space between them on the sofa. She wondered who would make the first move then decided neither would if she stayed there. She cleared her throat and said she needed to go, errands to run, etc.</p>
<p>“Oh dear, I forgot to mention,” Aziraphale fretted as he walked her to the door. “Your -”</p>
<p>“Bike!” Anathema squealed. She rushed forward to the wall where the bicycle had been propped against. “It’s my bike but it looks so new! And it has gears. Wait, my bike doesn’t have gears and I was pretty sure it had been totaled when I crashed.”</p>
<p>“I think I heard an angel praying to heal your bike,” Crowley sauntered out to join them.</p>
<p>“Oh, Crowley…” Aziraphale gave the red-head a too fond look that the demon tripped over his own feet twice. Anathema rolled her eyes. Their auras were too pink and sickly sweet that she feared if she stayed, she might suffocate from all the love.</p>
<p>“See ya guys!” she announced unceremoniously, rolling her bicycle out.</p>
<p>“That was kind of you, my dear,” the blonde whispered as they watched the young woman speed off.</p>
<p>“No, don’t thank me. We’ve, ah, we’ve got an arrangement don’t we. Help each other out to pay off our respective debts. And you don’t worry about it, we all have all the time in the world. Heavens, I think you’re almost immortal now. I remember we left your payment period in an indefinite state,” he chuckled nervously. He hadn’t planned on that particular detail. He supposed he’d been wishing to keep the man for as long as he himself existed.</p>
<p>“My, that is a wonder. Rather ineffable I’d say,” Aziraphale smiled up at him. He’d worry about the immortality dilemma later. If Crowley would be willing to keep him company, he supposed it might not be as frightening as it sounds. He gathered up his courage and asked, “Well then, to start, how about if I buy you dinner?”</p>
<p>Crowley laughed. It seemed he needn’t worry if his counterpart let his mistake slide. “Dinner. Sure. I’d like that.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My Tumblr is <a href="https://zephyrofalltrades.tumblr.com/post/630037431504306176/write-it-motherfuckers-person-a-would-you-be">here</a>.</p>
<p>:D</p></blockquote></div></div>
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